


The city behind the glass

by Chysack



Series: every tear in the sky will die [1]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Self-Reflection, Suicidal Thoughts, as usual, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:08:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27594596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chysack/pseuds/Chysack
Summary: He sits there, and tries to find a reason to desire remembering.
Series: every tear in the sky will die [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2017274
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	The city behind the glass

Desmond sits in front of the windows and watches. He has become kind of an expert in this strange brand of people watching that he is creating. The world outside is dark, and he knows he will have to go back to bed soon -knows for how many times guards came up and forced him to.  
He knows, okay? But just a little bit more. Just a bit.  
It's heartbreaking, breathtaking, to see the city like that. To see the electronic lights shining through so many windows, the street lamps, the ads, the cars, the _people_. It's electrifying, in a way that hurts. He sits with his legs crossed: that is how he always sits. Back straightened from its usual slouch, hands on knees, only breathing, _just breathing_. He must maintain a careful equilibrium. If he lets himself go forward, his forehead will touch the ice of the window and break the illusion. If he breaths too hard, condensation will appear on the smooth surface.

_Blood will show._

It has nothing to do with the here and now, with this quiet contemplation, and yet he hears it resonating in his head. _Blood will show._  
Maybe it is one of Altaïr.

The guy is so different from him, sometimes he feels like he can't stand it and he jumps from the highest point and hope, hope that the fall won't be perfect. Sometimes it isn't. It doesn't change anything, though.  
The both of them really are different, that's what makes it so scary when he gets lost in those few similitude, those common traits they share. Sometimes he thinks _that could have been me_ and he doesn't know if it would have been better or worse.  
He doesn't want to be a killer. It's just... It feels like he already is one. It would be nice to at least have the freedom that goes with it.

His exhale lasts too long, and his cage appears in front of him. Here, he can't jump. He wouldn't want to if he could, anyway. The thought is only attractive in its impossibility, in its _if only I could jump-_  
It doesn't go very far after that. Desmond isn't suicidal. His trace on the glass is gone as he inhales slowly, his own kind of meditation. A contemplation of the world he is only half living in. Trying to find something in it to anchor himself to. Something that will make it worth it.

What scares him even more than forgetting it is wanting to forget it.  
He shouldn't be surprised that it happens so much, not with where things seem to be heading for him.

**Author's Note:**

> Guess I'm making a series of that, since I don't seem to be stopping for now.


End file.
